“Sir,” she said, leaning toward him so he could hear. “Could you give me a little room?”
He sighed like she’d asked him to carry her home.
“I’m six-four. Where exactly do you want my legs to go?”
“Could you give me a little room?”
“Just in front of you, dear.”
That did it. I closed my book.
“She shouldn’t have to sit sideways because you want two seats.”
His head snapped toward me.
“Nobody asked you.”
That did it.
“She’s asking you.”
“If she’s uncomfortable, she can stand.” He gave me a slow, mean smile. “Give her your seat if you care so much.”
Beside him, the elderly woman gripped her cane and began pushing herself up.
Her knuckles were white.
“She’s asking you.”
“No,” I said, more sharply than I meant to. “Please stay. You sit right there.”
She hesitated, then sank back down.
He leaned back and spread his knees even wider.
